


just desserts

by dustofwarfare



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sephiroth doesn't know it, but tomorrow's his birthday. Genesis thinks he needs a party. Angeal thinks it's going to end very badly. Luckily, this half-baked plan turns out to be a piece of cake, and all three Firsts manage to rise to the occasion. Just a little slice of life fic, before their friendship crumbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just desserts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raskol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raskol/gifts).



> I wrote this for Raskol, and it's teetering on the edge of crackfic-esque -- though it could just be the novelty of these three not being broken and angry? Also, I do not apologize for the puns in the summary (the puns in the oven?), not one little bit. :|

**just desserts**

The whole thing is Genesis’s fault. 

“Do you know tomorrow is Sephiroth’s birthday?” Genesis asks him, as they’re walking back from training one day. They are sans-Sephiroth, as the resident mad doctor has requisitioned him for the day and left the other two SOLDIERs First on their own. 

Angeal did not know about Sephiroth’s birthday, and he says as much to Genesis. “How did you find that out?” he asks, suspicious of Gen’s motives for sharing this information. “And are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure,” Genesis says, with an offended glare. “Really, Angeal. Why would I lie about Sephiroth’s birthday?” 

“Because it’s Sephiroth,” Angeal says. Genesis gives a little huff and pointedly ignores him, but Angeal simply remains patient and waits for Genesis to answer him.

“I was in the laboratory the other day, and I saw Sephiroth’s file. I took a quick peek. It was _very_ dull, for the most part. What I managed to read of it, anyway, I only skimmed.” 

Someone must have interrupted him, then. Because Genesis surely would have done more than _skimmed_ Sephiroth’s file, given the opportunity. 

“Mmm,” Angeal says. Sometimes, when dealing with Genesis, non-committal noises are the safest. “I’m guessing you haven’t told him?” 

“No, why would I do that?” Genesis smiles that sly-fox grin of his, sidling closer to Angeal. “I wanted to make it a _surprise_.” 

“Or, you want to show off how you know something about him that _he_ doesn’t know?” 

Genesis blinks innocently. “Would I do that?” 

“Genesis.” 

Genesis rolls his eyes at Angeal’s heavy stare, and drops the act. “I just thought we should celebrate, that’s all. You make him a cake, and I’ll smugly enjoy how I knew it was his birthday before he did.” 

Angeal casts his eyes heavenward. Genesis is constantly trying to rile the other man up, either through one-upmanship in the training room, verbal taunts or things like surprise birthday parties. He’s like a territorial cat, hackles raised and ears flattened, circling around another feline he’s decided is a threat. 

The problem is, Sephiroth is the cat who’s asleep on the sofa and doesn’t even notice the hissing, angry ball of fur waiting to pounce on him. And if he does notice, he just stands up, turns in a circle and folds his tail around himself before going back to sleep again. 

If Sephiroth had just given in a time or two to Genesis’s attempts at button-pushing, maybe Genesis would be tired of doing it by now. But probably not. 

Angeal sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “I’ll make him a cake, and you’ll not invite anyone and keep the gloating to a minimum.” 

Genesis pouts. “You never let me have any _fun_ , Angeal.” He grabs Angeal’s arm possessively. “You’re not making him a dumbapple pie, though. That’s _my_ birthday treat, not his.” 

“Good to see you’re being mature about this,” Angeal says. 

“I’m nothing if not dependable,” Genesis says, grinning. 

“That’s one word for it,” Angeal agrees.

It looks as if he’s going shopping. 

* * * 

Angeal makes certain to tire Genesis out thoroughly when they get back to his apartment (Angeal’s apartment, but really _theirs_ , his and Genesis’s. Genesis barely spends any time in his own -- he thinks Angeal has a bigger bathroom, which is not true, but Angeal has stopped trying to convince him). 

Genesis is very wound up at the thought of getting one over on Sephiroth. Luckily, Angeal knows how to fuck him right into a nap, so that’s what he does. 

It’s a ruthless strategy, but Angeal is not taking Genesis shopping. He learned his lesson about that years ago, back in Banora, when Genesis thought _I can’t afford that, Gen,_ was code for _buy me that, Gen,_ or -- more often than not, because Gen liked to see what he could get away with -- _steal that for me but don’t tell me that until we’re at home, Gen._

(“I just want to make you happy,” Genesis would say, sincere even at ten years old, eyes wide and holding up some sweet or magazine that Angeal made the mistake of eyeing more than once at the store. 

“I don’t need that stuff to be happy,” Angeal tried to tell him, but Genesis was stubborn. He also promised to go back and pay for the stolen items, but Angeal doubted he’d ever done so. 

On their first visit to the army P.X. at ShinRa, Genesis wisely didn’t try to steal anything -- they had a Goal, and getting busted for stealing in the commissary wasn’t going to help them reach it -- but he did try and buy Angeal things that, thanks to their small stipend, Angeal could now buy himself. 

“I thought you wanted me to be happy!” Angeal teased him, reading his magazine while Genesis sulked on his bunk. 

“I do,” Genesis said. “You can have whatever you want, as long as you have it because of _me_.” 

“More than one thing can make a person happy, you know,” Angeal tried to tell him, but Genesis just stared at him like he was speaking some other language, so Angeal let it go.)

Angeal heads to a supermarket a few blocks away from the ShinRa building, as the P.X. doesn’t have much in the way of baking supplies. It takes him a few minutes to think about what to make Sephiroth for his birthday. Dumbapple pie is out, which Angeal is smart enough to know even if Genesis hadn’t mentioned it (three times, the last a sleepy mumble as Angeal left him in his bed before venturing out to the store). 

The problem is, he’s not entirely sure what he _should_ make. Sephiroth has never expressed any interest in desserts at all. He does not avail himself of food that he considers unnecessary for a properly balanced diet. He doesn’t even eat _meat_. 

_What am I supposed to do? Make him a cake out of tofu, lettuce, and protein powder?_

Luckily, there’s someone else in the baking aisle, and she looks like she knows what she’s doing, selecting various cake mixes and toppings with the confidence of an expert baker. “What kind of cake do you make for someone who doesn’t like sweet things?” Angeal asks her, smiling hopefully. 

She gives him a weird look in return. “Um, if they don’t like sweet things, why are you making them a cake?” 

Angeal feels his face color a little at that. _Why, indeed._ “Um. It’s...kind of a long story.” 

“Okay.” She places a small container of icing in her basket. “What does your friend like, that isn’t sweet?” 

_Physics, swords, and leather._ This is a terrible idea, Angeal should just get Sephiroth some polish for that sword of his and call it a day.

“Healthy stuff,” he says, instead. It seems like a safe answer. 

“Well, dark chocolate is supposed to be good for you. For your, um. Blood circulation or something? I heard that on TV, anyway.” She holds up a box of _Dark Chocolate Devil’s Food Cake_. 

Angeal takes it from her with a grateful smile, then points to the frosting. “Same for this, you think?” 

“Well that seems like...a lot of chocolate. Intense, you know?” 

Angeal nods. “That’s pretty fitting, actually.” 

“You could also add some fruit, like, on the top? If she likes healthy stuff.” 

Angeal doesn’t bother to correct her about his friend’s gender. He thanks her, takes the chocolate icing and goes to the produce section. No help materializes in the form of another shopper, so he’s on his own for this one. 

What kind of fruit goes best on top of a cake? 

Apples are out for obvious reasons. Peaches seem too messy, and pears...he’s never heard of a cake with _pears_ on it, they don’t seem to go together at all. Bananas...the thought of that makes him snicker, and he almost grabs some -- but Gen might get jealous and think Angeal is making some kind of sexual overture at Sephiroth. 

That thought distracts him for a minute, standing there in the produce aisle. He’s not going to lie, he’s thought about it before. Sephiroth is the strangest person Angeal has ever met, true, but he’s also fucking beautiful and hey, Angeal is a man with a healthy appetite. 

Finally, he picks up a couple of cartons of raspberries. They’re not too sweet, and better yet, they’re on sale. Fresh produce, he learns, is expensive. He wonders if ShinRa grows theirs in a lab somewhere in the building. He probably doesn’t want to know. 

* * * 

Genesis sits on the counter while Angeal bakes, reading _Loveless_ and drinking wine. Angeal doesn’t like wine, but he keeps it around because Gen does. He’s also wearing one of Angeal’s shirts, his hair is still messy and he’s barefoot. Angeal likes Gen when he’s like this, open in a way he never is around other people. 

Gen notices him looking and says, “What?” a little defensively, arms crossing over his chest. 

Angeal just shrugs and walks over to where he’s perched, and kisses him. “You’re pretty, that’s all.” 

Genesis wraps his legs around Angeal’s hips. “Oh, excellent, compliments,” he says, laughing. He gets a hand in Angeal’s hair and tugs his head back, smiles down at him. “Those are my favorite! Put that cake in the oven so I can blow you.” 

“I’m not going to let Seph’s cake burn, Gen.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you are the _definition_ of buzzkill, Hewley?” 

“All the time,” Angeal says, and pats Genesis on the side of the face. It’s hard enough to be more than a tap, but not hard enough to be anything Genesis wants. “All the time.” 

“Hmph,” says Genesis, and goes back to his book. 

* * * 

While the cake is baking, Angeal takes the opportunity to smack Genesis as hard as Genesis wants him to -- enough that _Genesis_ makes good on that blowjob. Gen tries to draw it out, teases him, and Angeal knows for a fact he’s trying to get Angeal not to notice the timer on the oven. 

He gives a good effort, but Angeal is nothing if not disciplined. Besides, Genesis also looks hot as hell on his knees like that, with his messy hair and his pretty mouth wrapped around Angeal’s dick, the side of his face still red from being smacked. 

Genesis watches over his shoulder while Angeal ices the warm chocolate cake, stealing a few raspberries and swiping his fingers in the container of icing a few times, until Angeal tells him to stop. 

“I almost got bananas,” Angeal tells him, when he’s finished with the cake. 

Genesis, mellowed enough by sex and wine to find that funny, giggles like a twelve-year-old. 

* * * 

“I don’t understand,” Sephiroth says, very slowly. “What is this?” 

Angeal is deliberately ignoring Genesis, who’s wearing a party hat and blowing a noisemaker, as well as the sparkly banner that says _Happy Birthday!_ that Genesis had, at some point, strung up on the wall. 

“A cake,” Angeal says. 

Genesis blows the noisemaker again. 

“Why?” Sephiroth studies the cake, head tilted. He’s so confused, it’s nearly painful. 

“It’s your birthday,” Genesis sings, blowing the noisemaker again. He’s clearly enjoying himself. Angeal is considering strangling him with the thin strap of his party hat. 

“What do you mean?” 

Angeal wishes they could stop posturing and being awkward because the cake looks awesome, and he’s actually a really good baker. “Genesis found out it was your birthday, today. So we made you a cake.” 

Sephiroth blinks, studying Genesis like he’s a particularly interesting and lovely butterfly that Sephiroth has just pinned to a tray to examine. “I didn’t know today was my birthday.” 

“I know,” Genesis says, smugly. He winks and blows the noisemaker. 

“How did you know that?” Sephiroth asks, stalking closer. Angeal wonders if they’d notice if he cut himself a piece of cake. If it gets ruined in whatever this is about to turn into, they’re both in so much fucking trouble. 

“I have my ways,” Genesis says. 

“He saw your file,” Angeal says, at the same time. 

“What file?” 

Genesis gives a mysterious shrug. Angeal rubs at his temples. Sephiroth stands as still as a statue, staring between the two of them. The possibility for violence hovers in the air, the cake’s imminent destruction all but assured. 

“In the science department,” Gen says, waving a hand. “I don’t remember what kind of file it was.” 

Sephiroth, who is dressed in civilian clothes but still looks like he belongs on a battlefield, relaxes a fraction of an inch and says, “Oh. I didn’t know that. Did it say what year?”

“I didn’t have time to check,” Genesis says, surprised briefly into honesty. “I mean. No.” 

Sephiroth turns to Angeal. “What is in a cake, Angeal?” 

Angeal feels the weight of that question settle in his stomach, as it occurs to him again just how _weird_ Sephiroth is. Not only in looks, but he doesn’t know it’s his birthday, how old he is or _what’s in a cake_. Suddenly, as awkward as this is, Angeal is glad they’ve done it. 

He’s going to shove that noisemaker down Genesis’s throat, though. 

“This one has dark chocolate and raspberries. Dark chocolate is supposed to be good for you,” Angeal offers, parroting the girl from the market. “For your...blood circulation, or something.” 

“Nothing is wrong with my blood circulation, my tests were all at normal levels. Unless that was also in my file?” Here, Sephiroth looks at Genesis. 

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Genesis says, in response. 

“It also has raspberries,” Angeal hurries to add. “Which are...fruit.” 

“I know that,” Sephiroth says, eyes narrowed a little, as if that was a stupid question from someone who doesn’t know what’s in a _cake_. He reaches out like he’s going to take one off the top, then hesitates. “I’ve never had one.” 

“Well, good thing this is your birthday cake,” Angeal jokes, but it’s weak at best. He catches Genesis’s eyes, but Genesis gives him an unreadable expression and blows the noisemaker again. 

Sephiroth frowns, and walks over to Genesis. “What _is_ that? It’s annoying.” 

Genesis reacts in a predictable fashion, and Sephiroth moves faster than any human being has the right to, and catches the noisemaker just as it uncurls. Instead of the shrieking, loud noise, it emits a pathetic little whine. 

Angeal doesn’t bother hiding his laugh. Genesis glares at them both, and Sephiroth pulls the noisemaker away from Genesis and says, “If it’s my birthday, then I don’t want any of these.” 

“Why don’t we have some cake,” Angeal says. “I need to find something to cut it with.” 

“Should I --” starts Sephiroth. 

“ _No_ ,” both Genesis and Angeal say, at once. 

The image of Sephiroth slicing the birthday cake with the masamune is both humorous and, because they both know Sephiroth, a possibility. 

“I’ve got it,” Angeal says, and goes to find a knife. 

* * * 

Sephiroth takes the raspberries off his slice first, almost delicately removing them with his long fingers, eating each one without a change in expression. 

Genesis scowls at him. “Stop being a weirdo. Do you do this on purpose for attention, or what?” 

Angeal gives him a warning look, but as usual, Genesis’s barbs don’t seem to bother Sephiroth all that much. 

_Maybe today will be the day they start bothering him,_ Angeal thinks. _Then they can have it out, and at least there will be cake._ “Do you not like chocolate, Seph? You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I don’t have to eat it, I know this isn’t mandatory.” The concept of obligatory food consumption is clearly one with which Sephiroth is unfamiliar. “Sweets aren’t good for you, you know.” 

“Yeah, neither is getting shot up with mako, and yet…” Gen waved a hand. “Live a little, Sephiroth. I dare you.” 

“There’s no evidence mako is harmful to humans.” 

“Oh, for the love of Minerva,” Genesis groans, throwing his hands up. “Angeal made this, and it took him _forever_ , way longer than I wanted him to spend on you, so could you just try some and tell him you like it?” 

“What if I don’t like it?” Sephiroth meets Angeal’s amused gaze with his own. “Is that going to be a problem?” 

Angeal gives him a good-natured smile. “Nope. More for me.” 

Sephiroth takes a bite of his cake. His eyes widen slightly. “Oh. That tastes different.” 

“Different?” That’s not what he was going for, but maybe Angeal shouldn’t be surprised. 

Sephiroth nods. He eats another bite. “I see why people might like this to exclusion of other things.” 

Angeal almost chokes on his bite of cake. “Thanks?” 

Sephiroth doesn’t say anything, just settles back in his seat and eats two slices. At one point, he actually licks icing off his fingers, which is something Angeal never thought he’d see, ever, and can’t stop staring at.

Neither, he notices, can Genesis. 

_Aha,_ thinks Angeal. 

* * * 

“Thank you,” Sephiroth says, after he’s finished his cake and helped Angeal with the dishes. Genesis is perched on the counter again, watching Sephiroth’s every move with hooded eyes. 

“You’re welcome,” says Angeal. 

“If Genesis happens to find out when your birthday is, Angeal, I’m afraid I might not be able to make you anything. I’ve never cooked before.” He pauses. “Well. Military rations. But I don’t think you want those.” 

Angeal and Genesis share a glance. For a fleeting moment, Gen looks just a little bit guilty. “I already know when Angeal’s birthday is, Sephiroth.” 

“Oh.” Sephiroth tilts his head so that his hair half-covers his face. “Then you can make him something.” 

“Not really.” Genesis shrugs. “I can’t cook, either.” 

Sephiroth lifts his head, slowly, smiling through his hair at Genesis. “You can’t?” 

“Woah, let’s not -- this is not an invitation for the two of you to burn ShinRa Tower down by seeing who can make me a birthday cake,” Angeal warns. “Just get me a six pack and we’ll call it good.” 

“But you should still have a cake,” Genesis says, eyeing his rival. There’s a small smile playing about his mouth. “Even if I don’t make it, I can still give it to you.” 

“A nutritious one that will improve your blood circulation,” adds Sephiroth. “Do you like raspberries? Some other fruit? Pears?” 

“He likes _apples_ ,” Genesis says, challengingly. 

“I actually like more than one kind of fruit,” Angeal says. He can’t believe he just said that. “It’s possible, you know. Liking more than one type of a thing.” 

Genesis narrows his eyes at him. “Possible, but stupid. Why would you want pears when apples are so much better?” 

“Maybe Angeal is tired of apples,” Sephiroth says, with no visible change of expression. It’s either a brilliant tactical maneuver, or spectacularly bad timing. “Since he has them all the time. He should try something new.” Sephiroth arches one silver eyebrow, because of course he can do that. “Live a little, like you said.” 

“He’s tried other fruit before,” Genesis snaps, hopping off the counter in a graceful move, eyes flashing. “He just likes apples _better_. No one likes pears, anyway. They’re weird and you can’t even make pies with them.” 

“Why?” 

Genesis opens his mouth, closes it, then gives a haughty sniff. “You’re smart, go figure it out yourself.” 

Angeal watches the two of them, trying to figure out if he’s allowed to take this exchange as two attractive men fighting over him in his kitchen, rather than an unwarranted attack on pears. 

“You could eat them both at once,” Angeal suggests, going for it. It’s probably going to end with him receiving a variety of fruit-themed, badly-burned dessert items for the foreseeable future, but oh well. 

“You could,” Genesis says slowly. He meets Angeal’s eyes and grins, slow and pleased. “That’s probably the only way you should ever do that.” 

_You can have whatever you want, as long as it’s because of me_. 

“Oh, are you even kidding me?” Angeal puts his hands on his hips. “I should pretend to misunderstand you, just to be a dick. What the _hell_ , Genesis.” 

“What?” Genesis flutters his lashes at him. “Oh, you wouldn’t like me half as much if I were boring and predictable, Angeal.” 

“We could try it and see, though,” Angeal suggests, shaking his head. “Maybe for a week or two.” 

“Not a chance, Hewley.” 

Sephiroth clears his throat, almost politely. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but are we going to continue with the wordplay, or just go to bed?” 

Genesis’s expression of shock would be comical, if Angeal weren’t wearing the same one. 

Sephiroth shrugs, and for the first time, Angeal notices he’s eating raspberries out of the container. “I’m not sure I find your lack of faith in my intelligence very attractive. It might make me rethink this entire thing.” 

“Who _are_ you?” Genesis asks, then nudges Angeal with his elbow. “What did you put in that cake, Angeal?” 

Sephiroth eats another raspberry, biting it from between his fingers. “Well?” 

“Do you -- ah, is that something you --” Angeal has no idea what to say. “Do you _want_ to go to bed with us?” 

Sephiroth sighs and finishes the last of the raspberries, giving both Genesis and Angeal a heavy-lidded look as he does so. “Would I still be here, if I didn’t?” 

“Oh. Okay, then,” Angeal says, and waves his hand towards his bedroom. “I guess we’ll...go to bed.” 

“No noisemakers,” Sephiroth demands. 

“No noisemakers,” Genesis agrees, and then recovers enough to leer at Sephiroth and say, “I have something else you can blow, though.” 

Angeal grabs his arm as Genesis goes to follow Sephiroth towards his bedroom. “Gen? You know I -- we don’t have to do this.” 

“I know.” Genesis kisses him. He tastes a little like chocolate, but mostly it’s just _Genesis_ \-- bad ideas, apples, and all. “We probably shouldn’t, huh.” 

“Oh, live a little, Genesis,” Sephiroth calls from the bedroom. His voice is suddenly wicked and amused in a way Angeal doesn’t think he’s ever heard before. “I _dare_ you.” 

Well, that means they’re definitely doing this. Genesis scowls and stomps off into the bedroom. 

“Are you coming or not, Angeal?” 

Angeal thinks about how Seph and Gen will look all tangled up together, how it will be to put his hands on both of them, how he can smack Gen and make him suck on Seph’s fingers, how he can wrap his _own_ fingers in Seph’s hair and pull -- 

Oh, hell yes. 

* * * 

Threesomes are very hot in theory, but in practice, they’re a bit more awkward than Angeal expected. 

For one thing, while the army might give their SOLDIERs First a nicer apartment with better furniture, that sadly does not include a bed fit for a threesome. Second, no one is doing anything remotely sexual, unless “standing around glaring” is considered sexy. 

Third, this threesome involves Sephiroth. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” Sephiroth says, eyeing them both. “Do either of you? It doesn’t seem like you do.” 

“Of _course_ we know how to do this,” Genesis scoffs. 

“Wait, what?” Angeal rounds on Genesis in surprise. “We have never had a threesome, Gen.” 

Genesis rakes a hand through his hair and scowls. “I _know_ , but you didn’t have to say it like that!” 

“He _asked_ , though.” 

“Are you as good at sex as you are at talking?” Sephiroth crosses his arms. “I hope so.” 

“Yes, of course,” Genesis snaps. “Are _you_ any good at sex? Because you’re not that good at talking.” 

“I assume so. I’m good at most things.” Sephiroth says this without any hint of pride or boasting. “Except talking, according to you.” 

“And cooking,” Genesis points out. 

“And that.” 

“And having normal social interactions.”

Sephiroth makes a face at him. “That’s the same as talking, isn’t it?” 

“No, that’s --” 

Angeal clears his throat. “I was promised a threesome. If you two are going to argue, I’m going to have a nap. Could you at least make out or something? Entertain me. I made a cake.” 

Sephiroth and Genesis study each other like they’re not sure what to do. 

“This is kind of awkward,” Sephiroth says, at length. 

“Maybe we should get drunk,” Genesis suggests. 

“That won’t make it any better. Alcohol impairs your ability to function in sexual situations -- well, it _does_ ,” Sephiroth mutters, and for the first time, Angeal sees him blush slightly. He immediately hides it under his hair. “I read that in a book.” 

“I think you read too many books,” Genesis murmurs, stalking closer. 

“I think you don’t read enough,” Sephiroth retorts, lifting his head, all hints of his earlier blush having vanished. 

“I think you should shut up.” Genesis closes the distance between them, grabs Sephiroth by the collar of his shirt, and pulls him in to kiss him. 

Sephiroth kisses him back, and Angeal is both _really_ turned on watching this because it’s hot as fuck, but he’s also amused because somehow, the two of them are kissing like they’re _still arguing_. 

Maybe Angeal should have expected that. It’s still way better than the bickering, though. 

When they pull apart, Sephiroth looks as out of sorts as he did when he saw that birthday cake. “That was -- I feel like I want to fight you, but I don’t think that’s...right.” 

Genesis smiles at Sephiroth in a way that makes Angeal want to fuck him through the mattress. “Oh, I think it is.” 

“Me, too,” says Angeal, but he’s sure he sounds a bit more exasperated than Genesis does about it. 

“All right,” Sephiroth says, and then suddenly he’s shoving at Genesis, pushing him back on the bed and climbing on him. 

Angeal can’t see past the fall of Seph’s hair, but there’s a lot of Gen bucking his hips and twisting, and he figures Sephiroth is trying to pin Genesis down. It’s not exactly sexy, but it’s hot because Angeal keeps hoping they’ll start kissing again instead. 

“Seph, smack Gen in the face,” Angeal offers. “He likes that.” 

“ _Angeal_ \--” 

There’s a smack, and then Angeal hears Genesis moan. 

“Oh,” says Sephiroth, and does it again. “Oh.” 

“That was evil, Angeal,” Genesis says, as Angeal joins them on the bed. Angeal’s always loved Genesis’s voice, but especially when it’s like this, all dark and lust-roughened. 

“Sorry,” Angeal says. “If I knew what Seph liked as much as you like that, I’d tell you.” 

“Mm. Would you?” 

“Of course.” Angeal settles back on the bed, enjoying watching Sephiroth perched on top of Genesis, and how Genesis is restlessly pushing his hips up. Sephiroth gently touches Genesis’s mouth with his fingers. 

Genesis bites them, immediately. 

Sephiroth sucks in a sharp breath, then says. “When I do this by myself, I wrap my hair around my wrist. So it pulls,” he clarifies. “I like that.” 

Things are a lot less awkward after that. 

* * * 

Afterwards, Angeal sprawls contentedly in the bed and listens to Genesis and Sephiroth discussing their various bites and bruises. 

“You should have bitten me harder,” Sephiroth tells Genesis. “I can barely see any of these. They’ll probably fade in two hours.” 

“And you should have Hojo genetically alter your teeth so they’re sharper,” Genesis responds. “Then I might feel it when you bite _me_.” 

“Oh, for the love of Minerva,” Angeal says, pulling a pillow over his head. “I knew I should have gone with the bananas.” 

And for the first time, Angeal hears Sephiroth laugh. 

* * * 

It’s three in the morning when Angeal disentangles himself from Genesis, who tends to sleep on top of him like an overly-warm blanket with too many sharp angles, and goes into the kitchen. 

Sephiroth is sitting at the table, eating a piece of cake. 

Angeal raises his eyebrows. 

Sephiroth blinks those strange, reptilian eyes at him, which are glowing faintly in the darkness. “I’ve never had anything this good, before,” he says, and then hides his face behind the fall of his hair. 

Angeal doesn’t know what to say. He might be talking about the cake, he might be talking about the sex, it’s hard to say. Maybe it doesn’t really matter. 

“I’m glad,” Angeal says, softly, and goes back to bed. 

\--


End file.
